Just Be Aware
by xxIAmTheSkyxx
Summary: There was just one thing that was missing. He was only one step away from escape. And a certain person would help him take it. AU oneshot.


**Just Be Aware**

He hated nighttime.

…Well, if he was being honest, he didn't actually hate nighttime _itself_. He didn't mind the cold, nor did he hate the dark. It was just the time of day that was the easiest for people to be alone with their own thoughts, since no one else would likely be around to disturb them. In lots of cases, the thoughts wouldn't be pleasant ones.

Or at least, it felt that way to him. He'd spent way too many nights alone to be thinking otherwise. He really didn't like it, but it wasn't like he could spend that time any other way. He could've probably just slept through the nights if he really wanted to like any other person would, but sleeping had really gotten redundant for him. It just started feeling pointless after a while. It wasn't like lack of sleep was being detrimental to his health or anything.

Almost every one of those lonely nights, he wished in vain for the same thing. He would stare up at the night sky, into the vast panorama of stars blinking in the velvety indigo expanse of space, and speak the exact same words:

"I wish that…I was able to die."

* * *

The place he chose to spend his nights was different every time. In the woods, at a park, the roof of a building, in a dark alley somewhere—it just changed according to his moods in order to bring about _some_ form of change in his life.

It was no different during the daytime, either—he usually tried to avoid being seen, because the longer he could avoid human contact, the longer he could stay at a given town or city. Forming relationships only served to hurt him down the road (something that he'd figured out ages ago), so he stopped trying to connect with people years ago.

Tonight he was resting on top of what he assumed to be a factory producing some brand of toy that he didn't really give much thought to. Normal people would suffocate standing on the roof of one of those buildings, what with all the toxic exhaust coming from the huge pipes that polluted the city air constantly, but it made no difference to him since breathing for him had become only a habit. It also provided him with warmth for a good amount of the night, so that was one bonus.

He wasn't even exactly sure what this place was called. He'd just felt like staying here one night, so he did—he hadn't bothered to read the sign welcoming visitors into the city as he'd entered it. So far, the place was…rather loud, even for a big city. The honking of cars, music being blasted from radios, and yammering of the citygoers all over the place gave him the impression that this city was probably never quiet…which he admittedly welcomed, even if only slightly. It was like being alone without ever actually feeling alone, and feeling close to people without having to come into contact with them. He'd been staying in this city probably for a longer amount of time than what was wise, but he couldn't help but be drawn to and enamored by the constant activity buzzing around the place. There was never a dull moment here, always something new—which made him happier than he'd been in ages.

Tonight was no different, and he had to smile as he once again listened to the voice of the city as everyone went about their business.

_I wonder what the people of the city are doing now_, he thought to himself wistfully. _It's really a shame that I can't stay here…_

He'd already overstayed his welcome, so this was going to be his last night here before moving on somewhere else to a more remote location. He thought about cataloging the name and location of this city somewhere and keeping it to himself for a while—he could come back here in the distant future if he wanted, even though this place would likely be vastly different by the time he returned, if ever.

He entertained the thought for a while, flicking about a piece of burnt plastic that had somehow ended up on the roof of the factory, but he couldn't make up his mind.

Or rather, his thought process was suddenly interrupted by the sound of several voices extremely close to his position—which surprised him, because normally no one was around the factory at this time of night. Curiosity drove him to make his way toward the direction of the sound in order to locate its source—the far right of the building in relation to the main street. He peeked over the side, and was met with an odd sight.

It was difficult to make out clearly thanks to the out-of-range streetlamps, but he saw several people standing in the deepest corner of the alley, maybe three or four. One of them looked like a young woman, judging from the length of the hair and the way it was styled. The rest were males that looked much older, surrounding the girl, and they seemed to be arguing about something. He inched closer to the group in order to make out the words being said.

"…just for a little while longer, please?" one of the men was whining.

The girl backed away from them. "I told you; I can't," she protested. "Just leave me alone now; I've got things to do."

Though she sounded firm, her voice was shaking slightly, and she was clearly nervous and didn't sound as if she wanted to be there. Even so, the situation could've been something different from what he was thinking. He didn't want to involve himself unnecessarily, so he continued to listen in discreetly.

"C'mon, don't be that way, sugar," another one of them coaxed. "Why don't we have some fun tonight? Just the three of us, eh?"

"No; I told you to go away!" the girl yelled at them, slashing the air in front of her. He saw an object flash briefly in her hands as she did so. "I have a phone; I can call the police right now if you don't back off! You'll be sorry!"

"Oh, real cute," the first man chortled, stepping closer to the girl. "Nice try, little lady, but callin' the cops won't do you a lick of good here. I can promise you that."

He glimpsed a flash of white-on-black as the man drew something from his belt—a gun. The other man pulled out a different weapon—a knife. That was the moment he decided that this was _definitely_ what he thought it was.

Figuring that since this was his last night in the city and he had nothing to gain or lose by involving himself in this situation just one time, he felt that he should might as well get a little bit of excitement in before his departure.

He vaulted over the side of the building.

* * *

The looks on the thugs' faces were worth the jump. They looked utterly flabbergasted at his sudden appearance right behind them as he straightened up, and seemed to be at a loss for words. He couldn't help but snort at their dumbfounded expressions, which snapped the men back into gear.

"What the hell's a kid doing here?" the one arming the knife exclaimed.

"How the fuck should I know; he came out of nowhere!" the one with the gun snapped. The man then shot him a death glare as he growled threateningly, "If you know what's good for ya, kid, you'll be gone at the count of three"—he raised the gun and pointed it at him—"or else you'll be tastin' bullets."

Sensing that a fight was imminent unless he took action, he quickly raised a hand in defense. "Wh-whoa, wait a second. Let's not jump to violence so quickly, misters. I'm not here to pick a fight with you or anything." He stuck his other hand in his pocket. "Here, let's make a compromise. If you drop your weapons now and leave the girl alone, then nothing happened to anybody. I promise. I won't even call the police."

He then chanced a glance at the girl behind the two men. She looked rightly surprised, yet also terrified—for herself or for him, he wasn't sure. Her phone was on the ground at her feet now, which she must've dropped in shock. She didn't say anything; she simply stood there and stared at him in horror.

"Ohh, tryin' to act all cool now; aren't ya?" the one with the knife said coldly, hefting his weapon. "Big mistake, punk."

"That may be true, but it'll be even truer for you if you don't accept my offer," he warned them, glancing at the weapons in their hands nervously and hoping to any and all the gods that existed that they wouldn't use them on him. He really didn't want to deal with the consequences that night. "And I'm not trying to act cool; I just don't want to fight, nor do I want to scare you. Let's take care of this peacefully like civilized people, okay?"

Unfortunately, the man with the gun lost his patience before he could change their minds. "That's it, smartass; you're fuckin' dead!" he shouted, and he pulled the trigger on him. There was a sharp _POP POP_ sound as the weapon fired, and he was struck point-blank in the chest and temple—the impact knocked him off his feet, and he fell backward onto the asphalt.

He heard the girl shriek once in terror as the gun went off and he fell to the ground. She probably thought that he was as good as dead. So, probably, did the two thugs, as one was complimenting the other on the shots he'd fired at him and saying that he was probably "dead as a dodo".

_Tch. Man, don't I wish._

He just lay there for a couple heartbeats, focusing on the sensation of the warm blood soaking through his hair, shirt, and jacket from the bullet wounds and letting the shock of being shot slowly wear off. It dawned on him that he hadn't felt like this for a _really_ long time. How long had it been since he'd been mortally wounded? He couldn't remember. He'd lost track of time ages ago. He couldn't pinpoint any specific memory, because it just all crowded together in his head in a jumbled mess. He didn't care much about remembering things anymore, because what uses would that give him, anyway?

_Huh…I really do need to start living a little, don't I?_

Unfortunately, as much as he wished to reminisce for much longer, he knew he couldn't stay down and play dead forever. He savored the sticky feeling of his blood against his skin for a couple more seconds before he decided to get up. He really hadn't wanted to freak anybody out tonight, but he really had no choice in the matter. People would be asking questions later if these people saw him dead here and his "body" was gone in the morning, and they'd charge the gun wielder for murder—which he didn't really want, since he didn't need that kind of guilt acting as extra baggage. Of course, just getting up like nothing had happened after getting shot point-blank in the chest would raise even _more_ questions, but at least in this case he had a leeway.

"Hey, that really hurts, you know," he grunted in annoyance as he stood up and brushed the dirt off of his jacket. "C'mon, now; what did I say about ending this peacefully? Geez, you even got my hair and clothes all bloody and dirty. Not nice."

If those three had looked freaked out before, they were looking outright terrified now. It almost made him want to laugh again, because it was funny how people panicked when something they got rid of out of fear came back. That was how so many people dealt with their problems—abandon it, kill it, destroy it, whatever easy way out they could find that just outright destroyed their problem—so that they wouldn't have to deal with the consequences. It only brought temporary relief; destroying the problem didn't mean it was gone. It would eventually come back to haunt the person who'd abandoned it. And even before that happened, the people would be plagued with guilt and shame for abandoning the problem that they couldn't cope with—which they saw as a weakness. It really was silly to him that they worried over such petty things like that when they could eventually get away from it by either growing a pair and dealing with the issue in a mature fashion or by dying. He didn't have that blessing.

The two men in front of him were so visibly shocked that they couldn't even speak for a good minute or so—they just stood there, petrified in terror. He decided to take the time to extract the bullets from his head and chest, because leaving them in his body was terribly uncomfortable.

"See, this is why I didn't want this to end in a fight," he sighed as he squeezed one of the bullets out from between his upper left ribcages and tossed it aside. "You just had to go and shoot me; now I'm going to look like a freak." He paused as he tilted his head to the left and tapped several times in order to try and knock the bullet out of his skull, taking note of the mortified expressions on their faces. "Okay, fine; I'll give—even _more_ of a freak."

Finally, the gunman got up the nerve to speak, but all that came out was, "H-h-how're you—y-you're still—I-I-I-I shot you—y-you should be—!"

"Believe me; I wish I was," he said, tapping the back of his head in a continued effort to shake the bullet out. "This gets really annoying after a while; trust me. I really hate it when I get shot—especially in the head. The bullets take forever to come out of my skull." He gave up after a while with a put-upon groan. "Damn it, it's stuck in there. I guess I'll take care of it later." He crossed his arms over his now-fully healed chest. "So how're we doing this, guys? Still wanna fight?" He took a couple steps toward the cowering men, who flinched back at his advance. "I mean, I'll oblige if you really want me to, but it's your call here. I don't want things to get bloody, so let's just try talking things out this time, okay? No fighting."

The men finally unfroze. Their weapons slipped from their fingers and clattered onto the asphalt as they took off screaming out into the streets in pure terror, "MONSTER!"

He cursed under his breath as he stared after them. "Not what I wanted. People are gonna come looking here after seeing that." His gaze fell on the girl, who looked absolutely horror-struck at what she'd just seen. He contemplated on whether or not he should leave her here for a split second before saying, "Listen, you'd better get out of here before people start showing up and asking questions. I'm sure I just freaked you out, so I'll be leaving you alone."

He then started toward the ladder leading back up to the factory roof at the opposite end of the alley, but a sudden "Wait a minute!" stopped him in his tracks. He turned around to look the girl that was halting his progress in the eyes, and saw that her expression was more curious and perplexed than scared…which confused him.

"Take me with you," she pleaded. "Please? I want to talk to you."

Normally, he would've argued against her by telling her it was crazy and dangerous (and frankly stupid since she was asking to go with someone she barely knew), but part of him wanted to learn the reason behind the girl's strangely level-headed reaction, and time was of the essence at that moment; he could already hear people's voices coming closer—so he had no choice but to agree to get her to escape from here unnoticed.

"Do whatever you like; just don't fall behind," he allowed hastily, and took off toward the ladder. "Hurry, before they find us!"

"O-okay!" He could hear her following close behind him, and he jumped onto the ladder and climbed up as quickly as he could. By the time people finally started crowding around the entrance to the alley, both of them had reached the top and were safely out of sight.

* * *

Thankfully, the factory was shut down by the time he got back onto the roof, so he didn't need to worry about the girl suffocating up here on the toxic fumes. However, this also meant that he no longer had any legitimate excuse to get her to leave him. It was unfortunate, but he couldn't get rid of her without coming off as a jerk and was now (for the time being) stuck with her.

He made his way toward one of the exhaust chimneys and sat down with his back against the still-warm metal. He continued to stare at the girl, who was now standing awkwardly a couple yards away from him. She made no move to approach him or even sit down, and it took a minute of staring before he spoke up. He could've waited longer (he'd picked up an infinite amount of patience over the years), but he didn't feel like wasting away his final night here, so he decided to prompt her.

"So," he said, making her start in surprise, "aren't you gonna sit down somewhere? You said you wanted to talk, right?"

"Oh, um…r-right," she stammered. "Sorry, it's just…"

"Yeah, I know it's a bit filthy up here," he grunted awkwardly, trying to knock out the bullet out of his temple again as he spoke. "I wasn't exactly planning on having a guest tonight, so you'll have to improvise somehow if you don't want to get dirty." He wasn't having any luck, so he decided to try and pick it out with his finger. "I'd lend you my jacket, but it's covered in blood right now. I'm guessing you don't want to sit on that."

"N-no, it's okay," she insisted, staring in horrified fascination at him as he stuck his fingers into the hole in his head as he tried to get the bullet out. "And it's not that. I'm just…well…I don't know what I'm supposed to say…"

"You don't need to act so politely towards me," he assured her as he finally got a firm grip on the bullet. "Just tell me what's on your mind." He pulled out the bloody bullet with some effort and tossed it away across the rooftop, slumping against the exhaust column in relief. "Geez, finally! Stupid thing was giving me a headache the whole way up here."

He then noticed the girl's odd expression, and he realized that she'd been…rather horrified at what he'd just done. He probably should've felt embarrassed, and he more likely than not would have had he not had to do this consistently before. At the moment, though, he did feel a bit apologetic for letting a girl see him pick a bullet out of his brain. He'd forgotten that women generally didn't like unsightly or grotesque things. That must've been unpleasant for her to watch.

"Oh…right, sorry for making you see that," he apologized. "Must've been unsettling, huh?"

"I, uh…it's fine." She took a couple steps closer before pausing. She then asked rather hesitantly, "Um…can I sit next to you?"

He waved at a spot to his right. "Go ahead. There's no need to ask me."

She slowly made her way over to his right and sat down carefully, folding in her legs and making sure not to touch her back against the metal chimney. Now that he had some breathing room, he was able to observe her appearance more clearly. She looked pretty young, maybe in her mid- to late teens. Her hair was long and blonde, and she wore part of it in a sideways ponytail. Her eyes were brown, and she was wearing a bright-blue top with black bottom-shorts that accentuated her rather bodacious features. She had a brown purse slung over her right shoulder, and was wearing pink high-heeled sandals. How she made it up here in that sort of footwear without slipping or falling was beyond him. So was the reason why young girls in this day and age showed so much skin—it was rather disconcerting to him.

"Excuse me," she began, pulling him back into reality. "Is it alright if…I ask you a question?"

"Well, I'm assuming that's why you decided to follow me in the first place," he replied casually. "So what is your question?"

Her hands tightened around her calves as she looked at him nervously and asked, "Um…who are you, exactly?"

The unexpected question took him by surprise. "Sorry, what was that you said?" he asked blankly.

The girl covered her mouth in horror like she'd just committed a heinous crime. "Oh, I—I didn't mean for it to come out like that! I'm sorry!"

"No, no; it's alright," he said, rubbing his forehead in confusion. "That was such a strange question; I was just surprised." He then looked at her expectantly. "So what were you really trying to ask?"

"Well…what I meant to say was…" She fidgeted again. "It's just…I don't know what to call you, so…can I ask you your name?"

"My name…" He leaned back against the chimney and stared up at the sky with a dissatisfied frown. Of all the things she could've asked him… "Hmm…sorry, give me a minute. It'll come back to me soon. I hardly ever use it, so I forget sometimes."

"Oh…I see," she said quietly, pulling him out of his thoughts again. "That must be pretty sad, not always knowing your name."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her pitying tone, which visibly surprised her. "Yeah, it used to be. It stopped being important to me after a while, so I eventually stopped caring about it."

"Seriously?" she whispered in disbelief. "It doesn't matter to you what your name is anymore? But…how is that?"

He sighed as he picked the blood clots out of his hair bit by bit. "If you've lived half as long as I have, you'd understand. Things we take for granted now just…start to become redundant over time, until it eventually stops mattering."

The girl was silent for a couple heartbeats, taking in that information and digesting it. Then she came out with a disbelieving, "You can't be _that_ old. You don't look all that much older than I am."

That was the kind of response he expected from her after hearing that. She wouldn't believe something so outlandish at face value if she was sane.

"That's because that was around the time when I stopped aging," he clarified, still fingering his hair. "Since there was no point in keeping track of how old I got after that, I have no idea how old I am. I can't even remember when my birthday is." He looked at her. "How old are you?"

She flushed briefly before answering, "I-I'm eighteen."

"Hmm…that sounds about right." He plucked out a particularly large clump of dried blood and tossed it aside. "I was probably around seventeen or eighteen when it all happened. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah…" She cast a sideways glance at him skeptically before going back to stare at her feet. "You sometimes talk like an old man."

"I do, don't I?" he sighed, letting his hands rest for a moment. "It's inconvenient, I suppose…being stuck with a young body like this. I try to sound my physical age in order to keep up with the times…but it slips on occasion. I can't really help it when that happens."

"Uh-huh," she responded dubiously, staring off into the distance. He could tell she still didn't really believe him…or perhaps was choosing to refuse to believe him He didn't blame her, of course. He himself was wondering why he was explaining all this to a strange girl that he'd just happened to rescue on a whim.

"I'm Lucy, by the way," she mumbled unexpectedly, making him blink expectantly. "Lucy Heartfilia."

"Lucy…Heartfilia," he repeated slowly. "That's a mouthful."

"Well, everyone just calls me Lucy. I only use my full name for specific situations."

"I see." He flashed a small grin at her. "Lucy, huh…well, it's a nice name."

"Thanks," she said, her voice muffled against her knees. "And…thanks for saving me back there."

"Oh, uh…of course," he said in surprise. "Don't mention it. It wasn't a bother."

"Still, I'm really grateful," she said, raising her head for the first time to look at him in gratitude. "I don't know what those men would've done to me if you hadn't shown up right then."

"Nothing pleasant, I'm guessing."

"Probably not." She then stared at him intently—or more specifically, at his chest and head, where he'd gotten shot. "So…were you really shot back there? You're not hiding some sort of fake blood pouches under bulletproof vests or anything, are you?"

"Er…fake blood pouches?" he asked in confusion. "Not to disappoint you, but…I've never heard of such a thing before. There's really something called that? What are they?"

"…Never mind." She sighed deeply and started playing with her hair. Her expression appeared even enough, but he could see the wariness in her eyes. "So you really _should've_ died back there…right?"

He stared at his hands, which were covered in dried, blackened blood. "If I were able to," he said bitterly, "then yes, I should've died at the moment that man pulled the trigger. But as you can see" —he gestured to himself—"I'm still very much alive."

She stared at him even more intensely. "Is it true, then, what those guys said before? Are you a…a monster?"

"You know, honestly I really wish I was," he said ruefully. "That way I'd have a legitimate excuse for being like this." He picked his blood-encrusted nails as he spoke. "But no…hard as it might be for you to believe, I'm human like you." He then froze in his nail-picking, his muscles locked in place. "Only…I'm one that's not allowed to die."

"You're…not allowed to die?" she asked slowly. "Like…something isn't letting you?"

"That's the easiest way to put it."

"Then…what's stopping you?"

"That's just it. I don't know." He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the exhaust chimney. "But it's out there somewhere. And I'll do anything I can to find it."

The girl let out a small gasp at his words. "You _want_ to die?" she breathed in shock.

"I suppose it _is_ hard for someone like you to grasp," he said, exhaling. "To someone like you who can age and die…living forever is an alien concept…and because you fear death, you constantly wish for eternal life, not knowing of any of the hardships that come with immortality." He felt his own muscles tense at the very thought. "Trust me. Living forever is not something humans should wish for. This isn't a world that is worth living in for eternity. Nothing is worth living forever for."

"How…how can you say that?" Her voice trembled, and her eyes glistened with tears. "Don't tell me…don't go saying that the world is worthless! It's not! I've got family and friends that are living in this world! They make it worth living, no matter how hard life gets for me!"

She choked back a sob, and it dawned on him that he must've broached a sensitive subject for her. Not that it was intentional, but something must've happened to make her feel this way about the world.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I did a bad job of wording my thoughts correctly. I didn't mean to upset you."

She wiped her tears away with her forearm and stared down at her feet as she mumbled somewhat disparagingly, "No, I shouldn't have blown up at you like that. If you really are a person who lives forever…then I'm sure you know what you're talking about."

"You still don't believe me." It wasn't a question, because he knew it to be the truth. "You still think I'm lying to you."

"Well, it's really hard to believe otherwise," she said, her tone somewhat acerbic. "I mean, how often do you meet a teenage boy who says he's immortal? That's just ridiculous."

"I probably should've explained to you more clearly, then." He crossed his arms and leaned against the chimney. "When I said that nothing was worth living forever for, you must've misunderstood. Because I know that there _are_ things for people that are definitely worth living for."

"Then what _did_ you mean?"

"I meant to say that there's nothing worth living _forever_ for. Having a reason to live has no qualms with me, but I speak as the one who's lived longer than any person should that even such things aren't worth eternal life. By the time it ends, all you'll want is to die."

She didn't say anything in reply.

He rested his head in his hands again and sighed in resignation. "You still want proof," he guessed. "Am I right?"

She still wouldn't answer, which meant that he was probably correct. It was almost endearing to a fault; he'd nearly forgotten how stubborn people really were in nature.

"Well, I have nothing to really prove to you," he said matter-of-factly, "but I'm willing if you want the proof. How do you want to do this, Miss Lucy?"

She stared at him in surprise, as if she hadn't actually expected him to address her by her name. Then she asked, "You're…asking _me?_"

"It's your choice. It doesn't matter to me what you decide to do."

She hesitated for a moment, and then turned her body around completely so she could face him comfortably. "Let me see your scars," she said.

"My scars?"

"Where you got shot," she elaborated. "Show me."

"Oh…alright." He brushed his hair up and to the back to expose his left temple, and turned his head so she could see more clearly that there was, indeed, no wound to be seen.

"There's…there's no hole…" she muttered in disbelief. "How…" She raised her hand, apparently subconsciously, to touch the spot where the hole should have been, but she realized what she was doing and pulled her hand back.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, still staring at his temple with her wide brown eyes, "I didn't mean to…"

He chuckled again. This girl's antics were nothing short of amusing to him. "It's fine. You can touch it if you need the proof."

He took her hand with his free one and moved it to the spot on his temple. "There you go," he said lightly. "Feel any holes?"

"There's no way…" she breathed as she stroked his temple with her fingers repeatedly to make sure she wasn't missing a potential spot. "It's like nothing happened to your head…it's so weird…"

He smiled in amusement at her words, and after a moment, laughter escaped him, which surprised him just as much as it did her.

"Wh-what's so funny?" she asked hotly, immediately pulling her hand back.

"S-sorry," he tried to answer through the laughter, "I didn't mean to laugh, but…" He had to pause here to catch his breath before saying, "…you're a funny girl. Kind of adorable, actually. Funny, isn't it?"

"What's so funny about that?" she retorted self-consciously, her face flushing again. "Girls aren't allowed to be adorable?"

"I'm not implying anything by it; you're just the first girl I've met in a while who's made me feel this way," he said with a grin. "It's strange, to say the least."

"How's that so strange?"

"Hmm…how should I say this…" He placed his hand over his chest with a smirk. "You're so cute that it makes me want to kiss you."

If it was possible, her face flushed an even brighter red at that. She looked like a tomato wearing a blond wig.

"What did you just say?!" she cried indignantly as she shot to her feet. "Did you just seriously say that so casually?!"

He raised his hands in a bid to wave her down. "Easy there. I wasn't trying to, er…what's that term…hit on you, or anything of the sort. I was just teasing." He then crossed his arms again, unable to help but grin. "But you really are adorable. I won't lie about that."

She simply stood there and fumed for several seconds before turning on her heel and crossing her arms in a huff. "I can't believe you. I guess boys will always be boys no matter how old they are."

"Come on, it was a compliment," he said in an attempt to placate her. "I swear I didn't mean any offense by it."

She turned her head to glare at him shrewdly, and he had to stifle another laugh in order to avoid offending her. He hadn't noticed until now, but the ladies had become much touchier as the times had gone by. They hadn't always been this self-conscious.

"I'm really sorry," he said sincerely. "Honestly."

She still refused to say anything, staring at him for a couple minutes with the same expression before eventually giving up with a sigh. "For some reason, it's hard work staying mad at you."

He perked up slightly. "Am I forgiven then?"

"For now." She sat back down and glanced at him furtively. "Besides, I still don't know what your name is. Do you remember yet?"

"No…sorry," he replied, his stomach sinking. He'd never met somebody so fixated on learning his name before. It was a strange feeling. "Why? Is learning my name that important to you?"

"Well, of course it is," she countered furiously. "It's really depressing talking to someone that doesn't care about who he is!"

He immediately bristled at that. "No, you've got it all wrong," he argued vehemently. "I never stopped caring about who I was. It's just been so long that…it just slips away every time I try to remember it." He raised his hands to his forehead and cradled it gingerly. "And each time, it gets harder."

This surprised her. "Wait…you can't be for real," she said slowly, denial creeping up in her tone. "You mean…you forget your name each time you remember it? How does—how is that even possible?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," he replied heavily. "But that's how it's been for as long as I can remember. Everything just sort of…blends together. Memories get more and more warped over time."

"No way…"

He had no idea why he was saying all this—to a girl he'd just met, no less. In the distant past, whenever he was asked for his name, he usually either came up with a random pseudonym or simply dodged the question to hide the fact that he couldn't remember his actual name most of the time. It had never been a real issue before since he never stayed in one place for too long. For some reason, talking with her was compelling him to speak the truth…something he normally avoided.

"You really are a strange girl," he snorted softly to himself.

She blinked in expectancy. "Huh? What did you say?"

"Nothing." He lowered his hands and turned to look at her questionably. "Not to be rude or anything, but…how long do you plan on sticking around? It's getting pretty late, you know."

"That doesn't matter; I live alone this city." She then shot him an accusing look. "What; do you want me to leave or something?"

_More than anything_, he thought to himself. _This is getting way too close for comfort._

His thoughts must have been pretty obvious on his face, because she gave him a hard look and said, "I'm not going anywhere until I learn your name. And since you keep forgetting it for some reason, I'll make it so you remember it for good. I'm not someone who likes to leave people hanging like this, and it's not right to leave you as somebody who can't even remember who he is half the time."

It was official—this girl was definitely an oddity. There was no rhyme or reason to her actions or reasoning; it was simply because she wanted to do something that she did it without any qualms at all, even for a total stranger. Even so, he had a feeling that she was going to make good on her word. This night just continued to get more and more interesting.

"You're rather brash for a young lady," he commented. "Sure you can make good on your promise? It's a pretty big one."

"I never make a promise I can't keep." Her words were so firm that he stared at her in surprise. "I _will_ help you remember. I swear it."

The minute he heard those words, it sparked a memory that he'd kept buried ever since before the time he'd been made to live forever. Inexplicably, he found himself drowning in it so vividly that the voices sounded almost corporeal.

_Wh-what is this?! What do you think you're doing?!_

_I am simply fulfilling my promise to your mother. I swore to her that I would never let you die._

He let out a sharp gasp of shock as the memory suddenly hit him like a five-ton sledgehammer. He reeled from the jolt, prompting the girl to exclaim, "H-hey, are you okay? What's wrong?"

He couldn't find it in himself to answer. The words in his head were too overwhelming.

_But why? I'm not anybody worth dying for!_

_Every person in the world is worth dying for to at least one other. And for me…it is you._

_No…please, no! Don't do this, please! I don't want this!_

"What…what is this…" he whispered in panic, his voice shaking so hard it was just barely coherent. "All these words…th-they don't make any sense…who…who is…"

"Hey, calm down!" the girl cried next to him, but compared to these ethereal voices, hers was like a faraway echo—he could barely hear her. "C'mon, talk to me! Can you hear me? Hey!"

All his focus was on the voices reigning in his head—it was as if he was compelled to listen, and nothing would allow any deviation of his attention, not even himself. One of these voices sounded like him…but who did the other belong to?

_In doing this, I am giving you a chance—a chance for you to learn an invaluable lesson that no person has been able to teach you thus far, lest you become doomed to wander the earth forever. You must come to terms with it on your own before you are allowed to rest. This is the final task…that I will give you._

_No, I can't…I can't do this! Don't make me do this, please! This is pointless; all of it!_

_I am certain you will discover it…for you must. I have faith that you will succeed. Stay true to your name…and spread your warmth, wherever your road takes you…and I pray that you will someday return…for you are our sun…Natsu._

A sharp, knife-like sensation then lanced through his head for a brief second, enough to make him grunt in pain, but it did not last. Just as suddenly as it had come, both the pain and the voices were gone. His muscles had been so tense all throughout that experience that he barely had the means to brace himself once it was over. He lost his balance and nearly fell over, but the girl—no, her name was Lucy—caught him by the shoulders and held him up.

"H-hey, what's wrong?" she asked anxiously as she steadied him against the chimney. "What happened? You just started panicking out of nowhere; it scared me." She then squinted her eyes as if trying to get a better look at his face, and blinked in surprise. "You…you're crying…!" she gasped. "Just what happened to you? Are you feeling okay?"

_What did she just say…? Tears? I was crying?_

It took him a moment to gather himself enough to apologize for startling her. He was still rattled by what he'd witnessed.

"S-sorry," he said at last, hastily wiping his tears away with his sleeves. His voice sounded hoarse and ragged to him, which unnerved him a bit—he'd never felt this way before. "I'm…I'm fine. Just…what you said earlier…it made me—" He paused briefly. "Well, I just…started hearing voices in my head."

"Voices…?"

"There were two of them," he went on, unable to stop himself. "One of them sounded like me…but I couldn't recognize the second one. I don't know what was going on, but I sounded scared and panicked and—" He took a deep breath and massaged the spot where the bullet had struck him, where the phantom aches persisted. "It—it might have been the time when…my mortality was taken away from me. That's what it sounded like."

Lucy stared at him in a mix of wonder and pity, but he ignored that. "And I could tell…I didn't want it. I didn't want to live forever. But that—that other voice said that I had to. There was something I had to learn on my own before I was allowed to die…or else I would never get back that chance. So I'm like this now…because I never tried to learn." He hid his face with the palm of his free hand, which started trembling. "I denied myself. I denied what I'd become. I was too focused on the burden of eternal life and all the pain that came with it to try and learn anything. I became bitter and thoughtless, and I started wishing for the thing I was supposed to earn." His throat felt tight, but he kept talking. "I was…I was just sick of watching people die around me. I hated it. This world just felt like a prison to me that I couldn't escape no matter what I tried. So I got desperate…and the bitterness just wouldn't go away, and I just stopped wanting to connect with others, because I couldn't stand having to face the fact that I would have to lose more people I cared about. And I…" He had to pause to regain his bearings. "I can't believe…after all this time…it took me this long to figure out just that…"

Lucy then squeezed his arm gently, prompting him to raise his head from his hand in order to look at her. She looked…surprisingly happy.

"Well then, now you've got your chance," she encouraged him. "Now that you've acknowledged that, you can try looking at life a different way. Try to learn that lesson you were supposed to learn and become a better person."

He gazed at her radiant expression as she said this, and he couldn't help but wonder how she could be so optimistic. She spoke of his responsibility—his obligation—as if it were the simplest of tasks, despite the fact that it would be anything but. He'd squandered away who knew how many years lamenting his predicament, so how was he supposed to transition his muddled mindset so quickly?

"Well, it's not going to be easy," she admitted, having noticed the expression on his face yet again. "Of course I know that. But you won't be alone in this…" She flashed a smile at him. "…because I'll help you out. I'll help you learn that lesson."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You…you'll help me? Really?"

"Yeah, of course," she promised. "I'd be happy to."

He hesitated. "Thank you, but…but why? I'll just be a bother to you."

"Oh, come on," she said as she sat back with a giggle. "I don't mind. We're friends now, aren't we? Friends are willing to deal with complications."

"Friends…" How long had it been since he'd last heard that term? He had no idea…but that didn't matter anymore. He wasn't sure how, but he had a gut feeling that this connection would ultimately be worth it. "…Yeah. That sounds nice."

"Then it's settled!" she exclaimed happily. "Okay, then; let me reintroduce myself." She straightened up with a bright smile and held out a hand to shake. "My name's Lucy. It's really nice to meet you!"

He stared at her outstretched hand for a brief moment before taking it. "Nice to meet you, too," he said with a grin. "I'm Natsu."

Lucy's face lit up with joy. "You remembered your name!" she cried happily.

"I couldn't have done it without your help," he said. "Thank you."

"Oh, it was nothing," she dismissed. "I'm just happy that you know who you are now." They released hands and she gazed at him earnestly. "So your name is Natsu, huh…it really makes me feel warm just by saying it."

"Does it?" He chuckled appreciatively. "Well, I'm flattered. And a little creeped out, to be honest."

"H-hey, I didn't mean it like _that!_" she spluttered furiously. "What is _wrong_ with you?!"

"Well, how often do _you_ hear someone say that your name makes them feel all fuzzy and warm inside? If that's not weird, then I don't know what is."

"It was a compliment!"

"I know; I know. I think that by now you'd be able to take a joke." He then sobered up and looked to her in gratitude. "Thank you, though. Honestly."

Lucy's face had been puffed into a pout, but it slowly melted off her expression as she blushed slightly, "Y-you're welcome."

"You were serious about before, right?"

She blinked in surprise. "Serious about what?"

"About…you know, helping me remember my name for good," he said.

"Of course I'm serious about it. I promised that I'd help you, so I will. But!" She then jabbed a finger at him with a determined look in her eyes, making him flinch back in surprise. "You need to play a part in this, too. From here on out, you need to think of yourself as someone with a name. You have to look at yourself and think _I am Natsu_. Connect that name to yourself. _Natsu_ means _you_. Got it?"

"Er, uh…r-right," he stammered, nonplussed. "Got it."

"Good." She then stood up, dusting her shorts before turning to him. "Okay then. Let's go."

"Go?" he asked in confusion, rising to his feet. "Go where?"

"To my apartment," she answered, placing her hands on her hips. "'Cause I'm guessing you don't live on top of this factory roof."

"Well, no, I don't, but…why are we going to this, uh, apartment?"

She let out a very put-upon sigh. "To get you cleaned up, of course," he explained. "You're filthy and covered in blood, and you are not going to wander around the city looking like you came out of a slaughterhouse. Just come on."

* * *

That night was the night Natsu learned that those absurdly tall, white buildings with obscene numbers of windows that he'd seen at one point while staying in the city were actually called "apartment complexes", where a large number of people lived together in separate sets of rooms called "apartments". According to how Lucy had explained it on the way here, each set was numbered so that no one who lived here would get lost in the building, but he still found it rather daunting—and the numbering system extremely complicated. How were people supposed to get to the top of this place without exhausting themselves? Sure, there were a couple ladders running up the building, but there weren't any doors he could see nearer the top. Were they supposed to use stairs to climb all the way up and climb through a window?

He must've been gawking at the building for a while, because Lucy interrupted him with a curious, "What's wrong, Natsu? Never seen an apartment complex before?"

"Um—" He started at the sound of her voice and turned to look at her, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "N-no, I have. I just, uh, had no idea they were called that…or that all these people actually, you know, _lived_ in these buildings. It looks more like a…a mansion or a palace or something."

She stared at him in surprise. "So you've never been inside one of these before?"

"No, I…prefer being outside," he admitted. "I've actually never been in any of the buildings the entire time I've been here."

"Seriously?" she asked incredulously. "That's not possible. How long have you been in this city, exactly?"

"Er…" He crossed his arms and thought hard, trying to recall all the nights he'd spent here. "Close to about, uh…seven nights, I think?"

"So you're telling me that you've been here an entire week and spent all that time _outdoors?_" she observed in disbelief.

"Um…" He scratched his head, her flabbergasted expression getting him to feel inadequate for some odd reason. He was starting to feel glad that he'd happened to neglect bringing up the fact that he'd actually never once gone indoors for borderline countless years. "…Yes?"

"Where did you even—" She stopped herself by shaking her head. "N-never mind; we can talk more inside. C'mon, people'll start staring."

She took his wrist and led him toward the building. The double doors opened on their own as they approached (he'd seen doors like these before and knew them to be automatic doors; he just had no idea how they worked), letting them enter.

The moment they passed the threshold of the doors, a blast of warm air hit him in the face so thickly that he could barely breathe for a split second, which made him squint with discomfort.

"Ugh—geez, how do people breathe in here?" he gagged, covering his mouth and nose to filter out some of the hot air. "This air is so hot and thick…"

"Don't worry; you'll get used to it after a while." She then looked back at him curiously. "Wait a second; I thought you didn't need to breathe."

"I don't. But I never said that it's comfortable not breathing."

"Oh…well, I guess that makes sense." She looked back toward the front, heading for the counter at the back of the room—at which a very short old man was sitting in a mint-green armchair pulled up to the counter, reading a newspaper. He looked up as he heard the two of them approach, and folded up his newspaper as he hopped off the chair.

_Wow_, Natsu thought to himself. _That old man is more limber than he looks._

"Lucy, my dear!" he greeted her as they drew close. "Where were you; I've been worried sick!"

"Sorry, Mr. Dreyar," she apologized as she pulled both of them to a stop in front of the man. "I ran into a bit of trouble on the way back here, and I lost track of time. But I'm okay."

The old man called Mr. Dreyar harrumphed. "Well, I'm just happy to see you back safe and sound." He then turned to look sharply at Natsu for the first time, a strangely critical light shining in his eyes. It was harsh enough to make him flinch back slightly and stiffen.

"And who's this young man, Lucy?" he asked carefully, not taking his eyes off of his face.

"Oh—don't worry about him, Mr. Dreyar; he's a friend of mine," she said hastily. "He just needs a place to clean up, and he doesn't live around here." She turned back to the old man. "Mr. Dreyar, this is Natsu. He's a friend of mine just visiting the city." Then she quickly turned back to him as she said, "Natsu, this is the landlord of this complex, Mr. Makarov Dreyar. We've known each other for a long time."

Natsu got the feeling that she was telling him to greet the man himself, so he loosened his muscles as best as he could as he bowed awkwardly in greeting. "H-hello, sir. Nice to meet you."

Mr. Dreyar grudgingly nodded in approval, almost as if he'd been hoping for a less polite reaction. "Good. You seem to know your manners at the very least. That's something." He then suddenly whacked him upside the head with the folded-up newspaper, the critical light in his eyes growing all the harsher by the passing second as he rumbled threateningly, "But I'm warning you, boy—make one wrong move on this young lady, and you'll be kissing the asphalt faster than you can say 'Sorry.' Do you understand me?"

Natsu gulped as he rubbed the spot where he'd been struck. "Y-yes sir." He wanted to back up a couple steps. The old man made him nervous—he didn't like him very much.

"Mr. Dreyar; I keep telling you to stop doing that," she scolded the old man. "Not every new person coming into the apartment is a delinquent. You'll chase away prospective renters this way." She then glanced furtively at the blood in his clothes and hair. "And I know this looks bad, but I promise you he's a good person. He won't do anything to me."

Mr. Dreyar sighed heavily. "Well, old habits die hard, young lady. But I will trust your word on this, just this once." He stuck his hand in his pocket and fished out a single key. "Here you go. Behave yourselves; hear me?"

"We will; don't worry," she said hurriedly as she took the key and started pushing him toward a flight of stairs to the left.

"Oh, Lucy," the old man called after her, making her pause to look back at him.

"What is it?"

"The repairman fixed the elevator while you were out today, so you don't need to take the stairs anymore."

Lucy looked beyond relieved at hearing that news, though Natsu himself was still confused. What was an 'elevator'?

"Oh, that's great!" she exclaimed happily. "Thanks for telling me, Mr. Dreyar!" She grabbed his arm again and pulled him toward the right. "C'mon, Natsu; this way."

She led him past the old man (who shot him yet another warning look) to a large bronze-colored door with no handle. It had a metallic sheen to it, and there were two buttons on the right of it—an upright triangle on top, and a flipped one below it. Lucy pressed the top button, which lit up, but nothing happened. He decided to wait a moment or so before speaking up.

"Hey, why's this door not opening?" he whispered to Lucy in an aside so the old man wouldn't hear.

"The elevator's coming down from a higher floor right now," she breathed back. "The door won't open until it's down here."

"Elevator?"

She pointed to a spot above the door, where a line of small light bulbs slowly blinked in succession, from the left to the right. "That shows us where the elevator is. The light going to the right means that it's coming down. If it was going to the left, it would mean that the elevator is going up."

"Okay…" He turned back to her in confusion. "But, um, that doesn't tell me what an elevator is."

She laughed. "Well, think of it as stairs with no steps," she said with a grin, "and much faster."

He stared at her blankly. "That doesn't make any sense."

"You really need to start paying better attention to what goes on around you, Natsu," she said with a sigh. "Try and following the times instead of ignoring everything."

"Hey, I don't ignore _everything_," he protested. "I still dress properly for this time, at least."

She raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. "Right. Where exactly did you get those clothes, then? 'Cause I'm sure you didn't just walk into an outlet store and buy them over the counter."

He had no idea what she was saying here, but it was clear to him that she wasn't buying what he was telling her…which was a fair reaction, since he was technically lying.

He sighed in defeat as he mumbled, "Well…they might've just, uh…fallen from the sky. Most of it, anyway."

Lucy blinked once, as if trying to make sure that she'd heard him correctly, and then said, "W-wait. _What?_"

"These clothes fell out of the sky," he repeated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I heard that part, but—"

She was interrupted when the door emitted a pleasant _ding_ and the metal door slid open, leading into a space wide enough for several people to stand in.

"Oh, the elevator's here. Let's go; we can talk while we go up," she said quickly, pulling him inside. There was a metal plate with a series of buttons with numbers on them on the inside of the space, to the right of the opening. There was a bunch of other buttons he couldn't really figure out. Lucy pressed the button with the number _14_ as the doors closed, and the floor suddenly lurched and his stomach dropped to the soles of his feet. He didn't know how, but this small chamber was moving—and his insides really didn't like it.

He gripped the rails along the walls of the chamber in a bid to avoid falling down, as his knees had gone weak from nausea. He couldn't believe that something like _this_ was making him feel sick! This "elevator" was a vehicle?!

"Hey, you alright?" Lucy asked him in concern. "What's wrong; do you not like small spaces?"

He shook his head feebly. "N-no, I—I just don't feel very well."

"Wait a second…you get motion sickness?" she asked in surprise.

"So that's what it's called, huh…" His stomach churned as he spoke, and his covered his mouth to keep from vomiting. "Urph…okay, you know what…j-just…just don't make me talk until this thing stops…ugh…"

"Wow…you really must be sensitive to motion sickness if something like an elevator makes you feel this sick," she murmured worriedly. "Did you pick this up along the way, or…?"

He could do nothing to reply to her. His stomach was getting as close to killing him as it could get —it was so unbearable that he wanted nothing more at the moment than to be knocked out so he would be spared this suffering. Even his grip on the rails was weakening, and his palms felt sweaty.

He must've looked really bad, because Lucy finally stepped in to help. "H-here, Natsu…hold onto me." She placed her hands on his and slowly eased them off the rail. Without the support, Natsu's knees buckled and he immediately fell—right into Lucy's arms. She somehow managed to keep the both of them on their feet as she hefted his weight carefully.

"Okay, easy there," she said soothingly, firmly rubbing his back. "Don't worry; we're almost to my floor."

She must've known something about how to deal with this condition that she'd called motion sickness, because he started feeling slightly better—his head stopped spinning, at least. It was brief, but he welcomed the minimal relief he received from the gesture.

Abruptly the elevator lurched again, and the momentary relief abandoned him for another split second. That movement nearly made him throw up on its own, but he managed to hold it in as the elevator came to a stop.

"Oh, we're here," Lucy noted above the elevator's _ding_. "This is my floor." He felt her rub his back again in order to get his attention. "Natsu, this is where we get off."

Immediately he detached himself from Lucy and ran for the exit to glorious stabilization. He tripped over the strangely soft-yet-rough floor and fell on his face, but he made no move to get up. He was so happy to be off of that vehicular hellbeast that he almost wanted to kiss the floor, but his muscles still felt tingly and worn out, so he couldn't even turn his head to do so.

"Th-thank God," he gasped, his voice muffled from his cheek being against the floor. "Solid ground…"

He had no idea how long he'd been laying there, but it had only felt like an instant to him before Lucy approached him and hoisted him up to his feet.

"Okay, I need to wipe your blood off the rails so you'll have to wait just a little bit longer," she grunted, holding him up. "My apartment is just ahead; it's number 7-105. Do you think you can walk on your own?"

He shook his head once. "I don't want to chance it," he groaned, holding his stomach. "Just…lean me against the wall for now."

Lucy obliged, and she left Natsu against the wall opposite the elevator as she ran back inside and pulled out what looked like a white handkerchief. He watched as she rubbed the bloodstained area of the silver metal rail with it until all traces of the blood were gone, and she jogged back out of the elevator just as the doors closed.

"Okay, I'm done," she said, stuffing the kerchief back into her small bag before kneeling to look at him at eye level. "Feeling better yet?"

Truthfully, he still didn't feel well enough to stand up on his own yet, but he wanted to rest somewhere more comfortable—preferably a bed, so he answered with a meek, "Help me up, please."

She laughed in a sympathetic way as she said, "Here, give me your hand." He raised his arm, and Lucy took it and pulled him to his feet. It took a moment, but he eventually managed to gain his balance.

"Thanks," he said, massaging his forehead with a sigh. "Sorry, I'm okay now. Let's go."

"Are you sure?" she asked in concern, her arms halfway out like she was afraid he might stumble again. "You still look kind of green."

"Yeah," he insisted, desperate to get some actual rest. "I'll be fine."

"Well…alright. It's this way." She started walking to the left, and he started after her. They walked in silence briefly before Lucy turned back to him as they walked.

"Say, about what you were saying before," she said. "About how your clothes fell from the sky? What's that about, anyway?"

This girl had a pretty good memory. He'd nearly forgotten about that. "Um, well, it's exactly as it sounds," he answered. "I was resting in an alley the first night here, and this shirt and jacket just fell on top of my head in the dark."

"Huh…" she mused as she turned back around. "I guess somebody must've thrown them out then."

"That's ridiculous," he retorted, picking at his open collar as they continued to walk. "These garments were in near-perfect condition when they fell on me. Why would anyone just throw them out like that?"

"That's just what a lot of people do when they don't like something or find it useless," she said resignedly, shrugging helplessly. "They throw it away. Usually they'd return it, but I guess this person was really disappointed by their purchase for whatever reason. You lucked out by happening to be there when those clothes were tossed; at least you're putting them to use." She turned back to him again. "Then what about the rest of your outfit?"

"These jeans and shoes were from a previous town that I'd visited," he said. "They're pretty comfortable, so I didn't really feel any need to change them."

"I see…" Her gaze strayed to his neck. "And what about that?"

"What? This?" He pointed to his scale-patterned (once-)white scarf. "I've always had this with me. I don't remember when or where I acquired it, but I've had this for as long as I can remember."

"Oh…then it must be important to you somehow, if you've been hanging onto it for so long."

"Maybe," he said uncertainly. "I don't know. I just couldn't ever bring myself to discard it."

"In that case, we'll have to figure that one out along the way, too," she said lightly as she turned a corner. "There's a lot of things you're missing in your memory right now that you really need back."

"Hold on; you're just being rash now," he protested. "You seriously aren't expecting to figure all this out just like that, are you?"

"Of course not," she said confidently. "I know it's not going to be easy, but you still need the help. Besides, I'm sure we'll find that out on the way."

Natsu stopped in his tracks and watched Lucy's back as she continued walking. Try as he might, he just could find no way to understand her or her motives. Even in spite of the fact that he himself had started feeling more confident the minute that she'd offered him her help, he still couldn't help but admire her optimism. She was truly one unbelievable young woman.

He smiled in happiness to himself fleetingly before picking up the pace to catch up with her.

* * *

Natsu made a note to himself—he was never going to use a shower ever again. It was practically a torture chamber in there. He had no idea how any of the knobs or levers worked or what anything in the colorful plastic bottles said they did, even after Lucy had explained to him what each of them did before he went in, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet for more than ten seconds at a time. It took him ages to get himself sufficiently clean, and he was immensely relieved to be out of the place. By that time, his clothes had been washed and folded next to the door, so he quickly toweled himself dry and dressed himself before stepping out of the bathroom. He was still a little damp beneath his clothes, and his hair was still dripping wet, but he didn't care.

"Hey," Lucy greeted him from the living room couch as he closed the bathroom door behind him. "How was your first shower?"

He sighed irritably. "Well, frankly," he began, patting his hair dry with the towel as he joined her, "it was awful, and I never want to go through that horrible experience ever again."

She raised her eyebrow again. "Come on, it couldn't have been that bad."

"Yes, it was," he argued fiercely. "I must've broken my neck three times over while I was in there! It may not have killed me, but it still really hurt! How do you people keep from killing yourselves in there?!"

"By not stepping on bars of soap," she answered plainly. She looked like she was trying really hard not to laugh. "Really, that's it."

"It was hard enough keeping track of everything else in there," he grumbled, his face feeling hot. "And it doesn't matter what you say—I am _not_ going in there again. Ever."

"Whatever you say," she said with a giggle.

"Oh, quit the laughing," he snapped, toweling his hair more roughly as he spoke. "Weren't we supposed to do something important tonight?"

"Okay, I'm sorry," Lucy apologized. "Once you're ready, we can head out again."

"Forgot to ask. Where are we going, exactly?"

"It's a small park east of this building. I go there sometimes whenever I want a breath of fresh air." She rose from the couch and stretched. "In fact, I was headed home from there when you showed up."

"Really?" He thought back to the alley incident. "You're really something, walking out at night on your own in this city if there are people like those guys running around. I don't if I should call that brave or stupid."

"I'm not stupid," she protested. "It's never happened before, so I didn't think to really go with anyone else."

"Right. You're really lucky I happened to be in the area, or else you wouldn't be standing here right now."

"_No_, I'm lucky because you happened to be someone immune to death," she retorted. "They only stopped bothering me because you didn't die when they shot you and freaked out. Can you even fight?"

"You'd be surprised."

"But why'd you even bother learning, anyway? You can't die, so there's no point in needing to defend yourself, right?"

Natsu sighed in disbelief at her ignorance. "Weren't you listening to me before?" he asked wearily. "Sure, I can't die from getting shot or stabbed or what have you, but it _still hurts_. I'm not a masochist just because I'm immortal, Lucy. Did it ever occur to you to consider that?"

Lucy started and looked down at her feet, hugging herself. "Oh, I…I guess I didn't think of that. Sorry."

He placed the towel next to him and stood up. "Forget it." Despite feeling somewhat miffed, he couldn't really blame her for thinking that way. It was what most people assumed immortality did—keeping a person from getting hurt or dying. Invulnerability and immortality weren't the same thing. Only the former prevented pain. The latter only repelled death; pain was still very real, no matter how dulled it was (at least in his case). That was why he hated the way he was; even if the pain only lasted for a few moments, even if the pain was less than it would have been in a normal person, in those few moments he would always wish that he would just die. "Just remember that next time."

"Y-yeah. I will." She fidgeted a bit before saying apologetically, "Sorry, Natsu."

"I told you; just forget it." He rumpled his hair to get the last of the water droplets out, and then turned to look at her expectantly. "So, are we going or not?"

"Yeah, but…your hair's still damp," she said worriedly. "Do you want to go out looking like that?"

"I stopped caring about what I looked like ever since those zipper-things were invented," he dismissed with a wave of his hand and turning toward the door. "Let's just go already. And we're taking the stairs this time."

* * *

As far as Natsu knew, he'd never believed in fate up until this day. Coincidence was a completely different story, but on this night, the two coincided in the strangest of ways.

He and Lucy managed to make it to the park just fine—an expansive square area of grass, trees, and scattered benches with a huge stone fountain in the middle, the entire area lined with towering streetlamps that illuminated the entire park—but it was what happened once they arrived that prompted him to think so.

At first, the two of them were the only ones in the park, likely because of the late hour. The noise of the city was not quite as prominent here, but he could still hear the engines of cars as they drove by, occasionally blasting loud music from their built-in radios.

He looked to Lucy expectantly as they walked through the park. "Remind me why we came here," he requested. "Because I'm not sure you ever told me."

"Umm…" she mused. "To be fair, it didn't exactly have to be here. We could've gone anywhere. I did say that we would wander around the city, but I figured that…well, this park is as good a spot as any to start, right?"

"Oh, great. So you're saying we just ended up here because of…no particular reason?"

Lucy blushed in embarrassment. "Um…I guess we can put it that way, yeah."

She just never ceased to surprise him. He shook his head and muttered, "Um, wow. Okay. You—you are a marvel of a human being; you really are."

"What?" She glared at him critically. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

He just spread out his hands and shrugged in defeat. "Take it how you will. I can't explain it any better than that. And believe me, I've been trying my hardest from the minute I met you."

Lucy simply rolled her eyes and turned away from him as they continued walking. "You're just unbelievable."

He didn't say anything. _If anyone is unbelievable here, it's you_, he thought to himself. _Your way of doing things make absolutely no sense to me._

As they reached the fountain, he suddenly came to a complete standstill. Something didn't feel quite right in the night air. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but it made him feel uneasy for some reason.

"Hey, Lucy?" he called out edgily, which made her pause in her tracks. "Hold on a second."

She turned back to him curiously. "What is it, Natsu?"

He scanned the park warily as he caught up to her, feeling as if he was being watched. "I've suddenly got this…really bad feeling in my gut for some reason. Like…maybe we shouldn't be here. I think we should leave."

Immediately she blanched at his warning. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Wh-what do you mean? Is there somebody else here with us?"

"Ya got that right, sweetcakes," a new voice boomed from behind them, making them both flinch and whirl around, only to see no one.

"Wh-who's there?!" Lucy cried, looking around frantically. "Is there someone out there?!"

"Lucy, be quiet!" Natsu hissed at her in warning. "Calm down!"

"But Natsu—"

"Aw, you're workin' as this little princess's bodyguard now?" a second voice rumbled from their right. "How sweet; I almost wanna cry."

It didn't take long for Natsu to figure out who these voices belonged to. "It's them," he growled, drawing closer to Lucy defensively. "The ones from before."

He felt Lucy stiffen beneath this touch at those words with a stifled gasp, but he tried to stay focused on where the voices were coming from. Apparently, they hadn't let their previous encounter go, and the fact that they'd shown up even after getting an eyeful of him meant that they had some sort of plan this time…which spelled trouble for the two of them.

"You really did a number on us back there, little brat," the first man drawled, stepping out from behind a large tree several feet away from them with his hands in his pockets. His dark eyes glimmered with malice.

"Um…excuse me?" Natsu asked blankly, straightening up slightly. "I did what now?"

"You're gonna pay for what you did earlier," the second one said smoothly, stepping out from behind the fountain and forcing the two of them to quickly stumble away from him. "The ultimate payback."

Natsu's confusion still didn't clear. "Hold it. I don't ever remember actually doing anything to you guys."

"Oh, you sure did," the first one said darkly as he drew closer to the two of them. "You made the two of us look like fuckin' idiots! Nobody—and I mean _nobody _—gets away with that!"

"Hey, I wasn't trying to make you look like fools," he protested in an attempt to placate them. "You were the ones who ran off on your own; I didn't threaten you or anything like that. You're blowing this out of proportion."

"Really?" the second man asked with his eyebrows raised, the volume of his voice rising with every syllable. "Are we? That's not even the half of it, you piece of shit! I don't know what kind of weird trick you pulled back at the alley, but you ain't pullin' off that magic trick again!" He jabbed a finger at Natsu's chest as he went on. "We're gonna kill you for sure this time, and we don't give a flyin' rat's ass who sees!"

"Well, then; please do," he encouraged them, completely serious. "I really look forward to seeing how you'll pull that off. But I'd appreciate it a bit more if you stopped using all those dirty words."

"Natsu, are you out of your mind?" Lucy whispered to him furiously. "You can't mean that!"

"Look, right now all they want is me," Natsu hissed back. "Once they're on me, just take the opportunity to get away from here."

"But what about you?" she asked desperately. "I can't leave you behind! You'll get hurt!"

"Yes, you can," he insisted firmly. "Don't worry yourself over me; I'll be fine. It doesn't matter what happens to me, anyway; I told you I can't die."

"That doesn't matter!" she argued vehemently. "I don't want that! It doesn't matter that you can't die; you said you still get hurt! I won't let my friend throw himself into danger so recklessly!"

Her words hit him so hard he almost had his breath knocked out of him. This was it; Lucy was officially insane. Why would she do something like this for someone who couldn't die?

"What's with all the chit-chat?" the first one demanded impatiently. "Sayin' your last goodbyes or somethin'?"

Right then, Lucy stepped forward and confronted both of them. Her back was straight and she wouldn't back down.

"Lucy, what do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed in panic. "Get away from them!"

She ignored him and jabbed a finger of her own at the two men, making them take a step back.

"Listen up, you jerks," she said threateningly. "I'm not going to let you lay a hand on my friend, so if you don't want to get hurt, _back off!_"

A tic started going in the second man's forehead at Lucy's defiant words. "So, the pretty little princess wants to be first, huh?" he asked, his voice high-strung in fury. "Well, then; I suppose I can make an exception!"

The man lunged forward and snatched up Lucy by the collar, making her cry out in shock and pain. He pulled her in close as he drew the very same knife from before from his belt.

"You're a feisty one; I'll give ya that," he growled, the stainless steel in his free hand gleaming in the streetlights. "But no one talks smack to me and lives to tell about it!"

As quick as the eye could see, he brought the knife down on Lucy and drew blood from her right arm, and she yelled in pain as the man drew the knife away. Through all this, Natsu was frozen in terror and panic at what he was seeing.

"LUCY!" he screamed in horror.

Lucy's response was to slowly raise her arm and grab her captor's wrist. "I promise…I won't let them hurt you!" she grunted through the pain. "I don't care what they do to me…I won't let them!"

"There's no point in you doing this!" he cried frantically. "You're just going to get yourself killed!"

"Then let them kill me!" she yelled in defiance, making him freeze and shaking him to the core. "It doesn't matter what happens to me as long as my friend doesn't get hurt! You still have unfinished business, Natsu, and I won't let anything happen to you until you complete it! You won't learn anything that way!"

"What are you talking about; I'll still be able to take care of business after this!" he shouted. "What you're doing right now is senseless!"

"That's not what I'm talking about!"

"Shut the hell UP!" her captor roared in fury, slashing at Lucy again with his knife and letting more blood spray onto the concrete below them. "I'd be more worried about your own skin if I were you, girlie!"

Lucy cried out again as her blood splattered onto the ground.

"STOP IT!" he screamed again. He made a mad dash for Lucy, but the other man locked his head in a vice grip and trapped him there, placing his gun barrel right on his right temple.

"Oh, you ain't going nowhere," the man hissed into his ear. "Get prepared to say nighty-night in about ten seconds." Natsu heard the _click_ of the gun being cocked and ready to fire. "Try and magickin' your way outta this one, pinkie."

"Rrgh…" He glared up at his captor the best he could from his position. "Let…Lucy…go!" he snarled.

"Oh, we're gonna let her go, all right." He pressed the barrel even more tightly against his skull. "We're just gonna play with her a little before we do. Too bad for you that you won't be joinin' us."

Natsu gritted his teeth in anger. "You wouldn't dare…!"

"Natsu…!"

He started at the sound of her voice and abruptly flicked his gaze in her direction. She had been flipped around and had the knife placed against her throat. Blood ran down her right arm from the cuts on her upper arm.

"Lucy…" he gasped. "No…!"

"Natsu, listen," she insisted as she raised her neck to keep the knife from cutting too deeply into her skin. "I just need you to understand why I'm doing this. It's important."

"Lucy, no," he said, panic building up in his chest. "No, now isn't the time for something like this—"

"Yes, it is!" she cried, silencing him. "I'm doing this because you're my friend, Natsu! Your safety is important to me! _You're_ important to me! And you need to stop throwing away your safety like this all the time just because you can't die—because that doesn't mean you're someone who is expendable!"

His breath caught.

"Your life is precious, Natsu," Lucy said passionately. "There's a reason you're alive right now, just like everyone else! You were meant to be important to someone—someone who doesn't want anything more from you than for you to be by their side! So you have to live for them!"

Lucy's words struck every chord within his heart, so much that he was shaken to the very core and was left unable to speak. This painful tugging in his chest…this must have been it. This must have been the lesson he was meant to learn, the very quality that he had been missing throughout all his years.

To value his own life…to see himself as someone who mattered…to live for the sake of others.

_Of course…_ he thought in shock. _My life…isn't meaningless…I mean something to someone…I need to live…I need to live for the sake of that person…that's why…_

_That is why…I am alive._

Feeling a newfound ripple of energy coursing through him, Natsu raised his arm and elbowed his oppressor's stomach as hard as he could, forcing the man to choke in surprise and loosen his hold on him. He took the opportunity to snatch the firearm out of his hands and flung it into the ice-cold fountain.

"My gun!" the man cried frantically.

He ran for the fountain, but Natsu wouldn't let him get close. He intercepted the thug by grabbing both his wrists.

"Like hell I'll let you do that," he said in a low voice. "Do us a favor and take a nap."

He then yanked the man toward the cold concrete and struck the back of his neck before he hit the ground. The man didn't move.

"Jimmy!" the one holding Lucy hostage bellowed in shock.

Natsu straightened and turned on him lividly, making the man flinch visibly.

"If you know what's good for you," he growled, "you _will_ let her go this instant…" He stepped closer to him menacingly. "…unless you want to join your friend, that is."

The thug immediately released Lucy—who managed to stagger away a short distance away from the man—begging, "P-please don't hurt me! I-I'll do anything! Don't k-kill me, please!"

Natsu stared shrewdly at the trembling form of the man before him. He wasn't willing to let him get away with this so easily, as he was still fuming from what he'd done to Lucy, but it wouldn't be right of him to hurt the man now, and Lucy had seen enough violence for one night.

"Take your friend and leave," he said coldly. "And don't ever show your faces again. I won't be so forgiving next time."

He half-expected the man to fake him out and attack him with his knife, but he went straight for his fallen partner, hoisted him up, and ran off into the darkness as quickly as his legs would carry him and the weight of his unconscious friend. Natsu stared after their backs until they'd vanished from sight, and then turned back to Lucy, who was sitting on the closest wooden bench, clutching her right arm. She had a relieved yet fearful expression on her face, which made him wonder what he'd looked like to her as he was fighting the two men.

He sighed and closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Lucy," he said quietly. "Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly. "Y-yeah. I'm fine." She leaned forward worriedly. "And what about you? How are you feeling?"

He nodded once. "I'm all right." He then made his way to the bench where she was sitting, and sat down on her right, where her injured arm was. He then took off his scarf and gently wrapped it around her wounded upper arm, which stunned her.

"Natsu, what are you doing?" she asked in alarm, almost moving to stop him. "This scarf is—"

"A gift from my father," he finished simply, tightening the cloth on her arm. "It's a garment that wards away bad luck. Right now, you need it more than I do."

"But…"

He wordlessly tightened the scarf one more time so that it would hold, and then lowered his arms. "Thank you, Lucy."

She stroked the cloth bandaging her wound in wonder and looked up at him in gratitude. "Natsu, I…"

"You kept your promise," he said softly. "That one lesson I had to learn before I was allowed to die…I know it now. Thanks to you." He took her hand. "All this time…I believed myself to be worthless. I didn't think I was important…but you told me otherwise. You said…that I was your friend…someone that was important to you…that was what…I needed to learn." His eyes began to sting, and he felt his warm tears run down his numb cheeks once more. "You taught me that…so thank you…thank you so much…"

"Natsu…" Lucy sounded scared, gripping her warm hands all the tighter around his. "Wh…what's wrong with you? You…you feel so cold!"

She'd noticed. He could not hide it from her.

"It's finally done," he breathed faintly, feeling his body grow colder and weaker as his eyes slid closed. "I've accomplished…what I was meant to do…so now…I'm finally being…allowed to rest…after…all these years…"

His strength waned so much that he could hold himself up no longer. He felt himself slumping forward, and he felt Lucy's warm arms catching him before he fell.

"Natsu, no!" she cried desperately, trying to prop him up again in vain. "You can't leave me now! Not after—not after all that! Please…!"

He raised his hand and rested it on her forearm. "It's okay," he whispered, smiling feebly up at her. "You still have…something to…remember me by…so it'll be fine…"

"No, this is wrong!" she cried tearfully. "This isn't right! What was the point of learning that lesson if you were just going to die afterward?!"

"All that I…needed to do…" He sighed and rested his head against her shoulder. "…was to be aware…that it was there…that was all…"

"No, Natsu; please," Lucy begged, tears pouring down her face. "There's got to be a way…there has to be a way to save you! You can't go out like this! You need to live a normal life!" She then pulled his cold body into her arms in a bid to warm him. "You can't die like this…I want you to…I want you to have a normal life! You deserve it, more than anything!" She held him all the tighter. "Please, Natsu…you can't…"

He moved his other hand up to the top of Lucy's arm, gently removing her hand from his shoulder and gripping her hand in both of his with all the remaining strength that he could muster. "Lucy, listen…I have…a favor to ask you…" he said quietly. "Will you hear it…?"

"Of course I will," she said, her voice strained. "What is it?"

"Please…make me…a promise."

"A promise…?"

"Promise me…" He struggled to get the words out. "Promise me…that you…won't forget me…"

"I won't!" she cried, her hands now tightening against his. "I'll never forget you; there's no way that'll happen! It's a promise!"

Fresh tears sprung from his half-closed eyes at her words, and joy welled up in his heart.

"I'm really glad…to have met you…Lucy…" he breathed at last, his voice shaking. "Thank you…thank you…"

He then closed his eyes and fell into an unending sleep, with one final thought lingering in his mind.

_Father…your sun is finally returning to you…I am coming home…_

_As Natsu…Dragneel._

* * *

_NO THIS IS NOT THE ROMANCE ONESHOT. DON'T ASK._

_Sorry if this felt rushed and cheesy; I just REALLY wanted to post something before I had to leave, so I rolled this out in one week! That's why it might've seemed unrefined. ^^; I'm going on a snowboarding trip with my family, so there won't be updates at all until next year—but you can be sure that I'll still be working on them while I'm gone! Hope that this still turned out alright, and Merry late Christmas and Happy New Year, you guys!_


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